Jerome and Florus

Abstract

This paper explores the presence of Florus in Jerome’s works, with particular focus on the Vitae monachorum. Scholars of the Vita Pauli and Vita Malchi have identified passages where Jerome would employ words or expressions from Florus (no such evidence appears in the Vita Hilarionis). The significance of these lexical borrowings is assessed here. Jerome’s knowledge extends not only to Florus’ Epitome, but also to the fragmentary treatise Vergilius orator an poeta (whose attribution to the same Florus remains debated). If intertextual analysis allows for the investigation of an author’s engagement with another one, there are indications that Jerome may have been familiar with this text as well. This paper provides a comparative analysis of passages in Jerome and Florus, discussing lexical borrowings, sources, rhetorical features, and individual words and expressions, including those drawn from other authors and works.

1. Introduction: Jerome and Florus

Although Florus’ presence in Jerome’s works is not always immediately evident or straightforward, it is clear that Jerome drew upon him on a few occasions, employing a variety of methods. The specific ways in which Jerome engaged with Florus’ work—whether through literal quotations, paraphrasing, or the reuse of verbal elements—merit close examination to fully grasp the scope and significance of this influence. While some modern studies suggest that Florus’ influence may be significant, a more in-depth analysis reveals that Jerome’s reuse of Florus’ expressions—while adapting them to his own context and needs—is less extensive than one might assume.

Florus’ Epitome of Roman History, a work that condenses the history of Rome from its legendary origins to the reign of Augustus, was certainly read and studied in late antiquity.1 It was particularly valued for being an accessible and concise account of Rome’s imperial past. His narrative, marked by brevity and dramatic flair, aimed to serve both as a source of historical information and as a vehicle for moral instruction. The moral lessons embedded in Florus’ writing would have resonated with Jerome’s own moral and Christian perspectives, particularly in his portrayal of the lives of hermits (Vitae monachorum). While Jerome was critical of many aspects of Roman culture and its pagan foundations, he often turned to Roman historical works as sources of inspiration and cultural legitimacy, using them to lend historical authority and credibility to the biographies he wrote. This interplay between classical historiography and Christian hagiography likely reflects Jerome’s broader intellectual project, which sought to reconcile Rome’s cultural heritage with the emerging Christian worldview—defending the faith against its detractors while advocating for monasticism as the true expression of Christian life, even over the official Church.

While Florus’ influence on Jerome may not always be immediately apparent, a careful examination of their works reveals a significant relationship in certain instances. Jerome’s engagement with Florus’ Epitome as well as with his treatise on Vergil (Vergilius orator an poeta, whose authorship by the same Florus is debated), suggests a deliberate attempt to adapt Floran phraseology—even when merely resorting to generic reminiscences—for his own purposes.

2. History, Historians, and Historicity in the Vitae monachorum

Of the three Vitae monachorum (lives of the hermits) that Jerome wrote over a span of about fifteen years—the Vita Pauli, the Vita Malchi, and the Vita Hilarionis, a triptych of hermit figures devoted to the ascetic life that marks the beginning of the monastic biography genre in the Latin tradition—the first and oldest is the one dedicated to Paul, dating to the years when Jerome resided in the desert of Chalcis (375–377) or shortly thereafter. During this time, Jerome came into contact with many anchorites, who left a lasting impression on him and inspired his deep admiration. He refers to some of these encounters in the Vita Pauli itself, for instance, when he describes the dietary habits of certain hermits (Vita Pauli 6). The Vita Pauli was also influenced by and written in emulation of the famous Vita Antonii, the biography of the father of anchoritic monasticism, which was composed the year after his death (357) by Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, and soon translated into Latin by Evagrius, bishop of Antioch—a friend and benefactor of Jerome, a man of great learning, and possibly even a friend of the distinguished rhetorician Libanius. It was from the same Evagrius that Jerome learned about the story of the hermit Malchus, which he would later narrate a few years before 392 (Vita Malchi).

The Vita Pauli is therefore connected with Jerome’s stay in the desert and was conceived in that context and under its influence as an attempt to present a model of life that could stand alongside Athanasius’ Vita Antonii, while simultaneously ‘integrating’ and correcting that authoritative tradition, which viewed Anthony as the first to inhabit the desert. Paul, who in tradition would assume the title of primus eremita, is, in fact, presented as the true and first initiator of Egyptian anchoritism—a priority that is also sanctioned through the episode of the saint and hermit Anthony going to pay homage to Paul in the desert of Thebes, Egypt (Vita Pauli 7.1–3).2

The experience of the desert and the life of the anchorites, marked by harsh penance and prayer, did not prevent Jerome from cultivating secular learning—something that was scorned in the eyes of other anchorites. This testifies to how “intellectual labor also mortifies the base tendencies of human nature and strengthens the soul’s impulse toward God” (Degórski 1996, p. 10). Therefore, the years spent in the desert of Chalcis were crucial not only for Jerome’s spiritual formation but also for his intellectual development. During this time, he perfected his knowledge of Greek and dedicated himself to learning Hebrew, thus acquiring the tools and methods that would accompany him in the years to come in his work as an interpreter and translator.

With the Vita Pauli, Jerome inaugurated a new literary tradition—one that had no precedent in Latin literature, except for the Latin translations of Athanasius’ Vita Antonii.3 At the same time, he also marked the emergence of the “individualisme historique”, a historiographical approach to monasticism narrated through individual cases (Viellard 2011, p. 529).

But the Vita Pauli, generally considered Jerome’s very first work4—written when he was probably around thirty years old—does not aim to be an historical account. Nevertheless, it seeks to provide historical depth to the figure of Paul, whose earthly life was based more on legendary tales circulated among Egyptian monks than on solid historical evidence. Jerome himself acknowledges a certain lack of sources about his subject (Vita Pauli 1.4).5 In fact, the historical authenticity of Paul’s figure seems to have been debated following the circulation of the Vita Pauli, as suggested by a polemical remark—of which we know nothing beyond what is found in the prologue of the Vita Hilarionis (1, 6):

Maledicorum voces contemnimus: qui olim detrahentes Paulo meo, nunc forte detrahent et Hilarioni: illum solitudinis calumniati, huic obiicientes frequentiam: ut qui semper latuit, non fuisse; qui a multis visus est, vilis existimetur.

“We despise the voices of the slanderers who, as they once disparaged my Paulus, will now perhaps disparage Hilarion as well: the former they censured for his solitary life; they may find fault with the latter for his intercourse with the world; the one was always out of sight, therefore they think he had no existence; the other was seen by many, therefore he is deemed of no account”.

Along with the letter from 377, Jerome sent the Vita Pauli as a gift to Paul of Concordia, with the caveat that he had written this monastic biography for the simpliciores (the less erudite readers) and, therefore, had taken care to keep its style as modest (ep. 10.3):

Misimus interim te tibi, id est, Paulo seni Paulum seniorem; in quo propter simpliciores quosque multum in deiciendo sermone laboravimus. Sed nescio quomodo, etiam si aqua plena sit, tamen eumdem odorem lagena servat, quo dum rudis esset, imbuta est.

“Meanwhile I am sending to you, to Paul the aged, a still older Paul, on whom, to accommodate the less erudite readers, I have labored much to bring down the style to a more ordinary level. But somehow or other, though it be filled with water, the flask preserves the same odor which it acquired when first used”.

(Trans. Mierow 1963, p. 52)

In exchange for some books—namely, the Commentarii Fortunatiani, the Aurelii Victoris Historiam, and the Epistulas Novatiani—Jerome sent to Paul of Concordia the Vita Pauli, which required no small effort to simplify its style.6 Adapting form to content is the work of a conscientious historian, one capable of tailoring the style to his audience, in accordance with a principle already expressed by ancient writers. This principle will be explicitly referenced, along with other related reflections, in the opening of the Vita Hilarionis (1.1). Ultimately, as can be seen from reading the Vita Pauli and the aforementioned letter to Paul of Concordia, Jerome, while playfully distancing himself from rhetorical elaborations, still indulges in the pleasure of writing and rhetorical refinements; he draws on biblical material, presenting it with a language, style, and range of classical allusions.7 In the passage just cited, where he claims to adopt a lower style, there is an implicit corrective introduced through the metaphor of the new or recently made jar, derived from a letter of Horace.8 This serves as a subtle refutation of how the effort to keep the style of the Vita Pauli simple was approached with full awareness of how difficult it is to completely abandon the precepts of rhetoric and the refinement of style inherited from the ancients. Even with its intent to educate and its ascetic spirit, the Vita Pauli is presented to the reader in a form far from simplicior; the metaphor of the lagena (vessel, jar, flask) that accompanies the gift of the Vita Pauli in his letter to Paul of Concordia ultimately asserts this truth, i.e., Jerome did not intend to completely renounce the teaching of classical authors.

As will later occur in the Vita Malchi, the claim to historical accuracy in the Vita Pauli is pursued not only through references to events and historical facts9 but also through the subtle interweaving of expressive borrowings and analogies from pagan literature. These references, particularly from historical contexts and sources, function as if their very origin could lend credibility to Jerome’s narrative. This approach not only reflects the writer’s personal preference for auctoritates—freely employed both explicitly and implicitly, but also to literary exploitation of them. It is also worth noting—a fact significant in itself—that Jerome is aware of the value of writing, the power of its dissemination, and its impact on the audience. Above all, he does not seem to conceive of literary activity without its dissemination.10

This fact is significant, as it sheds light on Jerome’s concern for truth and historicity in writing his monastic biographies—mostly of hermits whose lives suffer from a paucity of sources, if any existed at all. The use of auctoritates—from which he borrows concepts, expressions, and words—serves in part to compensate for this insufficiency or lack of sources, as well as giving the prose a form and structure that bears the imprint of history.

In the final section of the prologue to the Vita Malchi (1.3), Jerome announces his (ultimately unrealized) project to write an ‘ecclesiastical history’ that would account for both the developments and the material grandeur attained by the Church of God. However, rather than an expected parallel increase in moral greatness, Jerome instead observes a stark moral decline. He argues that, despite its newfound power and wealth under Christian rulers, the Church has grown weaker in virtue (“et postquam ad christianos principes venerit, potentia quidem et divitiis maior, sed virtutibus minor facta sit”). As scholars have noted, this depiction of moral decay echoes Sallust, particularly his De coniuratione Catilinae (12.1), where the notion of decline is closely linked to the corrupting influence of wealth and power:

Postquam divitiae honori esse coepere et eas gloria, imperium, potentia sequebatur, hebescere virtus, paupertas probro haberi, innocentia pro malevolentia duci coepit.

(Gray 2015, p. 111)

“As riches began to be a source of honour, and with them came fame, authority, and power, virtue began to wither, poverty was considered a disgrace, and blamelessness was mistaken for malice”.

Jerome’s depiction of the Church as minor facta sit finds a striking parallel, as recently noted, in the opening reflection of Sallust’s De coniuratione Catilinae. In the prologue, Sallust famously describes how the once-glorious res publica, which had been “the most beautiful and excellent” had deteriorated into “the most corrupt and disgraceful”, “ex pulcherrima atque optima pessuma ac flagitiosissima facta sit” (5.9) (Bianchi 2023, p. 80).

Other Sallustian passages surface throughout Jerome’s work.11 The Roman historian was, in fact, a staple of the fourth-century educational curriculum, as Jerome himself acknowledges in Contra Rufinum 1.16, and was held in high esteem.12 Sallust’s concise and aphoristic style, particularly evident in his prologues, likely captured Jerome’s attention and facilitated his borrowings.

Notably, the opening chapter of the Vita Hilarionis—which also serves as a prologue—written soon after the Vita Malchi, contains a distinct Sallustian echo concerning the ability to “make words appropriate to the facts”.13 Soon after, Jerome explicitly cites De coniuratione 8.4 (ut ait Crispus…).14 However, upon closer examination, this quotation assumes a markedly different character, as will be discussed further.

It is therefore to be believed—and the examples mentioned serve as a confirmation—that the lexicon, images, and situations with clear historiographical derivation contributed not only to rhetorical purposes and the pleasure of learned imitation, but also to the function—as noted—of giving a certain “intellectual seriousness” to the Vitae of the hermits (Gray 2015, p. 32). This provided a solid foundation on which to claim, in the absence of other and more circumstantial evidence for biographies of the saints, authority and truthfulness, a kind of historical authenticity.

It is certain that, to the historians present in Jerome’s writings—in forms that must be evaluated each time, ranging from literal borrowings to paraphrase, from simple echoes to the persistent reuse of expressions—another historian must be added: Florus. Although the ways in which Jerome drew from him are not always clear or unambiguous, his influence is evident in several instances.

3. Florus in the Vitae monachorum

To assess Florus’ actual presence in Jerome’s works, it is useful to review the instances noted and variously highlighted in modern historiography, particularly in the context of editions and translations of Jerome’s writings. It is especially appropriate to begin with the Vitae monachorum, where, more than in any other work by Jerome, Florus’ name has been brought up by modern scholars (Degórski 1996; Leclerc et al. 2007; Gray 2015).

Regarding the Vita Pauli, Jerome’s very first work, the following passages from Florus have been emphasized:

A.1. Jerome, Vita Pauli 2.1 “tempestas saeva populata est” > Florus, Epit. 2.8.5 “terribili strage populantur”; 2.9.22 “Campaniam Etruriamque populantur”;

A.2. Vita Pauli 2.2 “hostis callidus” > Epit. 1.12.26 “adversus hostem totiens victorem, tam callidum”; 1.22.26 “adversus hostem totiens victorem, tam callidum”; 2.13.84 “dux callidus”;

A.3. Vita Pauli 4.2 “persecutionis detonaret procella” > Epit. 2.9.18 “Scipione Norbanoque consulibus tertius ille turbo civilis insaniae toto furore detonuit”; 2.13.2 “Sullana tempestas latius, intra Italiam tamen detonuerat”;

A.4. Vita Pauli 4.2 “Aderat, instabat, crudelitate quasi pietate utebatur” > Epit. 1.40.7 “Aderat, instabat, saevitia quasi virtute utebatur”;

A.5. Vita Pauli 5.1 “tandem repperit saxeum montem” > Epit. 1.36.14 “et saxeo inditam monti”;

A.6. Vita Pauli 7.2 “per noctem quiescenti” > Epit. 1.12.4 “Ille per nocte pastorio habitu speculatus omnia refert tutum iter”; 2.17.8 “Ipsique Bruto per noctem”;

A.7. Vita Pauli 7.5 “patentes campos volucri transmittens fuga” > Epit. 1.22.15: “callidus imperator in patentibus campis”; 1.32.3 “Critolai manum Metellus consul per patentis Elidos campos toto cecidit”; 1.38.14: “In patentissimo, quem Raudium vocant, campo concurrere; 2.29: Sarmatae patentibus campis inequitant”;

A.8. Vita Pauli 9.3 “callidus explorator” > Epit. 1.22.16 “callidus imperator”.

Except for one case (A.4), which will be discussed below, the remaining instances may be classified as mere general echoes or vague similarities.

In the first case (A.1), the verb “populor” (‘to plunder, to sack’) appears several times in Florus,15 but not in contexts or connections that suggest any relationship with the Vita Pauli.

The word “callidus” also appears several times in Florus,16 but in none of these instances does it seem possible to identify a direct dependence on Jerome’s part (A.2). The reference to Epitome 1.22.26 (“adversus hostem totiens victorem, tam callidum”), the only passage in which “hostis “is actually paired with “callidus”, is not decisive—either in terms of language or context. Moreover, the combination “hostis + callidus” is commonly used to indicate the snares of enemies (both real and spiritual), as demonstrated in a passage by Augustine (De opere monachorum 28.36), which is far more relevant to the Jerome passage: “O servi Dei, milites Christi, itane dissimulatis callidissimi hostis insidias”.

The third Jerome case (A.3) (Hagendahl 1958, pp. 102–5) finds stronger correspondences in later hagiographic texts (cf., the beginning of the Passio sancti Symphoriani Augustoduni mart.: “nomen persecutionis dire procella detonaret” and also the Vita Aniani episcopi Aurelianensis 1: “adversus Galliam dire procella detonaret”) and appears more closely related to the specific use of Christian vocabulary rather than with Florus’ writing. Furthermore, the combination “detonaret procella” is already found in a passage from Solinus’ work (Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium 8.3: “Thessaliae sunt Pharsalici campi, in quibus ciuilium bellorum detonuerunt procellae”), which should be considered in relation to the Jerome passage. There is no evidence that Jerome knew Solinus, although recent attention has been drawn to some lexical affinities, though difficult to evaluate, between Vita Hilarionis 28.3 and Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium 2.33–34. However, it seems that for now, we can exclude the possibility that any Christian authors before Augustine made use of Solinus (Paniagua 2014, pp. 129–31).

As for the phrase “saxeus mons” (A.5), which finds a minimal counterpart in Florus (Epit. 1.36.14: “et saxeo inditam monti”), it is worth noting that it is also used more significantly by Frontinus (De aquis urbis Romae 93: “per saxosos montes decurrit”) and Ammianus Marcellinus (24.4.10: “montem saxeum arcis naturaliter editum aequabant”), and most notably by Sallust (Bellum Iugurtinum 92: “erat inter ceteram planitiem mons saxeus”).17 Jerome seems to use this phrase (apart from some discrepancies in the manuscript tradition) also in Comm. in Isaiam 49 (“saxosis [or saxeis] montibus asperatur”) and in a passage from the Vita Hilarionis (21.2: “Saxeus et sublimis mons per mille circiter passus”), which should be noted in relation to the other examples.18

For the expression “per noctem quiescenti” (A.6)—which in Florus finds only a general comparison with the “per noctem” in Epit. 1.12.4 and 2.17.8—a more pertinent reference should be made to its occurrence in Ambrose (De Elia et jejunio 19.72: “nec per diem nec per noctem quiescunt”).

The phrase “patentes campos” (A.7)—for which one might refer to examples such as Cicero (De divinatione 1.42 [93]: “Aegyptii et Babylonii in camporum patentium aequoribus habitantes”) and especially Sallust (Bellum Iugurtinum 101: “Tum spectaculum horribile in campis patentibus”; 105: “repente in campis patentibus cum mille non amplius equitibus sese ostendit”)—appears quite frequently in Florus (Epit. 1.22.15; 1.33.3; 1.38.14; 2.29). However, none of these instances can be definitively said to have influenced Jerome’s usage.19

Beyond the frequent use of “callidus” in Florus (see above A.2), the phrase “callidus explorator” (A.8) in Jerome has no direct counterpart in the Epitome. The occurrence of “callidus imperator” in Epit. 1.22.16, noted in some translations, is too insignificant to establish any meaningful comparison. However, a more relevant parallel can be found in Augustine (Contra mendacium 5: “Ecce constituamus ante oculos callidum exploratorem accedere ad eum”), which may be more pertinent in relation to Jerome’s passage.

The only passage in Vita Pauli (4.2) that, among those identified by modern scholars, shows an actual verbal analogy with Florus’ Epitome is A.4. Despite its studied variation from the original—and perhaps precisely because of this evident variation—our hagiographer most likely draws from Florus. In Jerome’s version, the expression is used to describe the attitude of the sororis maritus (the husband of Paul’s sister), who, rather than continue to shelter Paul from persecution, seeks to denounce him. Jerome writes that he “aderat, instabat, crudelitate quasi pietate utebatur”; “was always present, pressing, used cruelty as if it were compassion”.20 This construction closely mirrors Florus’ description of Mithridates VI Eupator’s massacre of Roman citizens in Asia, where the historian writes: “aderat, instabat, saevitia quasi virtute utebatur”; “he was near, pressing, practiced cruelty as if it were courage”. The structure and verbal arrangement are nearly identical, with only two synonymic substitutions: saevitia → crudelitate and virtute → pietate.

It is difficult to determine why Jerome chose to adapt this particular Floran phrase, transforming Mithridates’ ruthless slaughter of Romans into a depiction of Paul’s persecution at the hands of his brother-in-law. The variation may result from approximate reminiscence rather than intentional modification. Alternatively, Jerome’s time spent writing the Vita Pauli in the desert of Chalcis may have reawakened this literary memory—or even prompted him to reread Florus’ Epitome, which describes Mithridates’ conquests, including in Bithynia, a region Jerome had passed through before reaching Antioch and then Chalcis (cf. Ep. 3.1). Another possibility is that Jerome drew an implicit parallel between the persecution of Christians and the systematic massacre of Romans in Asia Minor ordered by Mithridates in 88 BC. In this regard, it should be noted that Jerome would later reference Mithridates’ edict and its swift execution in Ep. 84 (to Pammachius and Oceanus, c. 399) (Labourt 1949–1963, vol. 4, p. 125), using it as a polemical and paradoxical remark against his anti-Origenist opponents.21

Regarding the Vita Malchi, which Jerome likely composed around fifteen years after the Vita Pauli and shortly before the De viris illustribus (dated to late 392 or, more probably, early 393),22 modern scholars have identified the following instances of the Floran influence:

B.1. Jerome, Vita Malchi 1.1 “stare firmiter” > Florus, Epit. 1.40.8 “excepta Rhodo, quae pro nobis firmius stetit”;

B.2. Vita Malchi 1.2 “prius exerceri cupio in parvo opere” > Epit. 1, praef. 3 “in brevi quasi tabella totam eius imaginem amplectar, non nihil ut spero, ad admirationem principis populi conlaturus, si pariter atque in semel universam magnitudinem eius ostendero”;

B.3. Vita Malchi 1.3 “Christi ecclesia nata sit, et adulta, persecutionibus creverit, et martyriis coronata sit; et postquam ad Christianos principes venerit, potentia quidem et divitiis maior, sed virtutibus minor facta sit” > Epit. 1, praef. 4–8 “Si quis ergo populum Romanum quasi unum hominem consideret totamque eius aetatem percenseat, ut coeperit utque adoleverit, ut quasi ad quandam iuventae frugem pervenerit, ut postea velut consenuerit, quattuor gradus processusque eius inveniet…”;

B.4. Vita Malchi 4.3 “cibus semicrudae carnes, et lac camelorum potus erat” > Epit. 1.34.12 “inplevissent carnis semicrudae et celiae”;

B.5. Vita Malchi 8.3 “paulatim pedibus subremigantes” > Epit. 1.40.16 “pedibus iter adgubernans”.

The first case (B.1) is merely a lexical similarity, involving the adverbial use of “firmus” alongside the verb “stare”. This pairing is not so unusual in Latin literature as to suggest a direct borrowing from Florus by Jerome. It does not represent a meaningful intertextual reference.23

The second case (B.2), Jerome’s desire to exercise himself in brief works, finds a possible echo in Florus’ preface, where he refers to his “brevis tabella” (cf., Gray 2015, p. 104). However, the connection is not firmly established within the Vita Malchi. Rather, Jerome’s familiarity with Florus’ preface is more convincingly demonstrated through verbal echoes in his other works (see below).

The third case (B.3) presents stronger lexical affinities with Sallust’s De Coniuratione Catilinae than with Florus, as recent studies have pointed out (Bianchi 2023, p. 80). However, based on Jerome’s Vita Malchi preface and its conceptual similarity to Florus’ account of the “quattuor gradus processusque” of the Roman Empire (Epit. 1, Prol. 4–8), some scholars have hypothesized that Jerome’s unrealized ecclesiastical history (see above) might have followed a four-stage structure. This so-called ‘biological scheme’—which outlines birth, growth, development, and decline—is characteristic of certain ancient historiographical traditions, including Florus’ work (Vanhaegendoren 2006). Although the hypothesis that Jerome’s unrealized ecclesiastical history might have followed this structure is intriguing, it remains speculative, as there is no direct evidence beyond the generic reference in the Vita Malchi.

As for the “semicrudae carnes” (half-cooked meats) that Malchus consumes while imprisoned (B.4), the expression can be compared to Florus, but it should be noted that it is also used by Ammianus Marcellinus when describing the habits of the Huns (Res Gestae 31.2.3: “semicruda cuiusvis pecoris carne vescantur”) and by Frontinus when describing a stratagem used by Hannibal against the Roman army (Strategemata 2.5.13: “semicruda graves carne maiorem in modum vexavit”). Considering the similar phraseology in the Adversus Iovinianum (2.7: “semicrudis vescuntur carnibus”), a work generally dated to early 393 (Cavallera 1922, vol. 2, p. 43), not long before the Vita Malchi, it seems likely that Jerome modeled this on the passage from Ammianus’ Res Gestae, as the use of the verb “vescor” in both cases confirms. Thus, in this instance, there seems to be no reminiscence of Florus in the Vita Malchi, but rather of Ammianus, whose influence has long been assumed and also provides a clue for dating his Res Gestae.24

In the last case (B.5)—Malchus’ escape from imprisonment on a wine-skin along a river—the similarity with Epit. 1.40.16 is somewhat tenuous, making any direct dependence unlikely. Furthermore, the use of the verb “subremigare” may have been inspired by a line from Virgil’s Aeneid (10.227: “laeva tacitis subremigat undis”), which deserves more attention than it has received so far.25 This line describes Aeneas’ night-time escape, where a nymph holds the stern of the ship with her right hand and rows beneath the surface of the water with her left. Additionally, the phrase “paulatim pedibus subremigantes” in Jerome’s text bears some resemblance to a fragment from Sallust (Historiae fr. 3.37 Maurenbrecher: “quietus invicem traeto pede quasi gubernator existeret”) (Gray 2015, p. 270).

Finally, as for the Vita Hilarionis (the last biography in Jerome’s monastic trilogy), no Floran influence is noted. Likely composed between 392 and 393 (between the Vita Malchi and the De viris illustribus), with motivations and needs quite different from the two previous Vitae, the biography of this saint—a Palestinian hermit who died in Cyprus in 371—was probably intended to impress the readers specifically through the miracles in which Hilarion was involved (Capone 2024, p. 97). It is perhaps this peculiar theme and narrative style (a celebration of the saint through his miraculous deeds) that makes any contact with Florus unnecessary in the Vita Hilarionis (at least until further evidence suggests otherwise). In the prologue of the Vita Hilarionis (1.2), as noted, explicit and clear references to Sallust are found (“ut ait Crispus”), which, upon closer examination, intertwine with other sources, in keeping with Jerome’s usual method of drawing on and reworking intermediate and multiple sources. Indeed, in this section of the Vita Hilarionis prologue, there are significant analogies with the prologue to the Vita Probi, attributed to Flavius Vopiscus (early 4th century), contained in the Historia Augusta. These analogies suggest that Jerome “reworked the prologue of the Vita Probi according to his own literary needs”.26 In any case, the Vita Hilarionis, aimed at a Roman audience in the late 4th century, displays a different narrative style compared to the other two Vitae, with a clear emphasis on the miraculous aspect of Hilarion’s life. As such, it contributes to the construction of an alternative model to that of Apollonius of Tyana, which had long been promoted by the pagan side.27 The goals of the narrative and the needs of the audience likely led the hagiographer to choose different models for this biography.

4. Beyond the Vitae monachorum

Instances of phraseological borrowing from Florus’ work have been noted not only in the monastic Vitae but also in other writings by Jerome. It will be useful to review these occurrences, beginning with Florus:

C. Florus, Epit. praef. 3: “faciam quod solent qui terrarum situs pingunt: in brevi quasi tabella totam eius imaginem eius (sc. populi Romani) amplectar”;

C.1. Jerome, Ep. 60.7.3: “Et sicut hi qui in brevi tabella terrarum situs pingunt, ita in parvo isto volumine cernas adumbrata, non expressa signa virtutum”;

C.2. Ep. 73.5.1: “Haec legi in Graecorum voluminibus, et quasi latissimos terrarum situs, in brevi tabella volui demonstrare”;

C.3. Ep. 123.13.1: “Quasi in brevi tabella latissimos terrarum situs ostendere volui, ut pergam ad alias quaestiunculas”;

C.4. Ep. 147.12.1: “Haec idcirco retuli, ut totam tibi scenam operum tuorum, quasi in brevi depingerem tabella, et gesta tua ante oculos tuos ponerem”;

C.5. in Eccles. 12.1: “quasi in quadam brevi tabella sicut pinxisse terrarum totiusque orbis vastitatem et ambitum oceani…”;

C.6. Commentarioli in Psalm. prol.: “et quod solent ii facere, qui in brevi tabella terrarum et urbium situs pingunt et latissimas regiones in modico spatio conantur ostendere, ita in psalterii opere latissimo quasi praeteriens aliqua perstringerem…”;

C.7. in Is. 18.66: “quomodo nos totius legis quasi uniuersi orbis descriptionem in breui tabella conamur ostendere?”;

C.8. in Ezech. 9.30: “Nunc aggrediamur tropologiam, et latissimum disputationis pelagus, brevi quasi picturae tabula, demonstremus”.

This is the most evident case—despite its many variations—of knowledge of the Florus text (C): “faciam quod solent qui terrarum situs pingunt: in brevi quasi tabella totam eius imaginem amplectar”, “I will do what those who depict the positions of lands usually do: I will embrace in a small tablet the entire image (i.e., of the Roman people)”.

This programmatic image, with which Florus describes the effort of cartographers in representing the world’s boundaries within the confined space of a map, indicating, beyond the metaphor, the difficulty of condensing a large number of events into a compendium (see Facchini Tosi 1990, pp. 90–95), is well-known and captured the attention of Jerome. He uses it multiple times, even in varied forms (cf. Marolla 2024, p. 108), to the point of it becoming an integral and recognizable part of his lexicon. The articulation, function, and purpose of this debt contracted by Jerome with Florus have been well outlined by Fabio Gasti,28 to whom should be added the detailed analysis of these passages—both in terms of expressive form and diachrony—carried out by Neil Adkin (Adkin 2011a).

Florus’ phraseology, as noted from the occurrences, appears with notable consistency in the letters, particularly in the well-known Ep. 60 to Heliodorus (C.1), dated to the middle of 396,29 where it is stated that the encomium of the deceased Nepotian deserves a more extensive treatment. Not only does the recurring and distinctive phrase “in brevi tabella” (though without Florus’ typical “quasi”), but also the word order “terrarum situs pingunt”, seems to replicate what is found in the Epitome.

In Ep. 73 (C.2), dated to the middle of 398, Jerome condenses much information about the figure of Melchizedek through the image of the brevis tabella. A decade later, in Ep. 123 to Geruchia (C.3), dated to 409, Florus’ phraseology is used to address minor issues and examples of widowed chastity that Jerome discusses in this text.30 It is worth noting that in these two epistles, Florus’ word order reappears in a very similar manner (though with inversion), along with a slight expressive variation (“latissimos terrarum situs” instead of Florus’ “terrarum situs”), which also occurs in the commentary on Ezekiel (C.8; see below) (Adkin 2011a, p. 423). Therefore, in Ep. 123, we might not be seeing an echo of Florus, but rather a case of Selbstzitat, a practice with which Jerome was familiar, or, more simply, an incomplete or generic reminiscence.

In Ep. 147 (C.4), which is filled with references and allusions to both sacred and pagan texts (the latter possibly because the recipient is likely a man of some culture),31 Jerome summarizes almost in “brevi… tabella” the wrongdoings of the deacon Sabinian. After arriving in Bethlehem and being welcomed into the Jerome community, Sabinian betrayed the trust placed in him and turned to “immunditiae, et fornicationi, et ventri, et his quae infra ventrem sunt” (§ 3). Through the letter, Jerome urges him to repentance. The Floran reference in this epistle—dated between 391 and 406 (Adkin 2011a, p. 420), thus approximately composed between the two previous letters—seems perhaps the least significant in comparison with the Epitome. From Florus, Jerome appears to draw only the image of the brevis tabella as a simple reminiscence, with no trace of “terrarum situs pingere”.

Not long after the composition of Ep. 147, we find the commentaries on Isaiah (C.7), completed between 398 and 407 (Adriaen 1963, p. V), and Ezekiel (C.8), completed in 413.32 In both of these works, the Floran image of the brevis tabella reappears (with the phrase “terrarum situs pingere” absent), and in the commentary on Ezekiel, it even evolves into “brevi quasi picturae tabula”. It seems that, over time, the Floran source fades, and the expression gradually transforms into a useful phraseology, eventually becoming part of Jerome’s own lexicon.

Before being attested in the epistles, the phrase seems to appear in the commentary on Ecclesiastes, written around 388–389 (Adriaen 1959, p. 248b), and in the Commentarioli in Psalmos, which may have been composed between 389 and 393.33 In these cases, both parts of the Floran phraseology are preserved: the “brevis tabella” (word “quasi” only in C.5) and the “situs pingere”. It should be noted that in the commentary on Ecclesiastes (C.5), the latter image takes on less direct and more varied forms (“pinxisse terrarum totiusque orbis vastitatem et ambitum oceani”), while in the prologue to the Commentarioli in Psalmos (C.6), it is expressed more closely to the Floran model. Notably, the repetition of Florus’ “faciam quod solent qui” appears in Jerome’s “quod solent ii facere, qui”,34 albeit with a more intricate rephrasing aimed at justifying the expansion of the angustum commentariolum to the Psalms: “…just as those who describe the position of lands and cities on a small map and try to show the widest regions in a limited space, so, in the more extensive work of the Psalter, I would briefly touch on certain matters”. The adjective “latissimas” also appears here, which, as noted, will later be used in Ep. 73 (C.2) and Ep. 123 (C.3).

It is not necessary to dwell too much on the evolution of Floran phraseology in Jerome’s works over time,35 as generic reminiscence and a tendency toward self-citation may have played a crucial role. However, some lexical clues may provide insights into the proximity of certain phases of writing and help us speculate about their probable dependence in contexts where Selbstzitat seems the most fitting form of citation, as suggested by the phraseology itself. For example, the double cretic clausula “conamur ostendere” in the passage of In Isaiam (C.7), as noted by Adkin (Adkin 2011a, p. 423), seems to be dependent on “conantur ostendere” from the prologue of In Psalmos (C.6), written about a decade earlier, or perhaps slightly more. Whatever the case, this particular and evocative Floran image continued to be used by Jerome throughout his life.

It should also be noted, in conclusion, that the Floran image never appears in the Vitae monachorum, which, due to their brevity, would have been better suited to include it. Perhaps this absence is because Jerome’s intent was not to present the Vitae as summaries of larger histories. After all, the biographical sources available to him were neither abundant nor extensive enough to justify a work of synthesis or any form of epitomization. Rather, as noted at the outset, his goal in the Vitae monachorum was to provide the reader with the most complete and exhaustive account of the lives of (semi-)unknown saints, employing forms and phraseology that were implicitly historical.

Finally, consideration must be given to Jerome’s translation and reworking of Eusebius of Caesarea’s Chronicon, undertaken during his stay in Constantinople in 380 CE (Cavallera 1922, vol. 2, p. 20). The question of the Roman historical sources employed in the Chronicon—already explored by Theodor Mommsen (Mommsen [1850] 1909)—does not always allow for the precise identification of the authors and works Jerome consulted, though it is certain that he drew upon Livius, Eutropius, and Suetonius, often blending their accounts. Giulio Puccioni has drawn particular attention to several passages in the Chronicon that appear to preserve traces of Florus’ influence (Puccioni 1956a, 1956b):

D.1. Jerome, Chron., pp. 84a^b, 85a Helm: “Numitor, Procae superioris regis maior filius, a fratre Amulio regno pulsus in agro suo vixit. […]. Filia eius adimendi, partus gratia virgo Vestalis lecta. Quae cum septimo patrui anno geminos edidisset infantes…” > Florus, Epit. 1.1.4: “Ab his Amulius iam septima subole regnabat, fratre pulso Numitore, cuius ex filia Romulus”;

D.2. Chron. p. 90a^a Helm: “Tarpeia clipeis Sabinorum obruta. Unde mons Tarpeius, in quo nunc Capitolium” > Epit. 1.1.12 “Sabinis proditae portae per virginem Tarpeiam. Nec dolo, sed puella pretium rei quae gerebant in sinistris petiverat, dubium clipeos an armillas; illi, ut et fidem solverent et ulciscerentur, clipeis obruere”;

D.3. Chron. p. 90b^d Helm: “Romulus primus milites sumpsit ex populo et nobilissimos centum senes ob aetatem senatores, ob similitudinem curae patres appellavit” > Epit. 1.1.15 “Iuventus divisa per tribus in equis et in armis ad subita belli excubaret, consilium rei publicae penes senes esset, qui ex auctoritate patres, ob aetatem senatus vocabatur”;

D.4. Chron. p. 156^c Helm: “Pompeius proelio victus et fugiens a spadonibus Alexandrini regis occiditur” > Epit. 2.13.52: “denique in Pelusio litore imperio vilissimi regis, consiliis spadonum et, ne quid malis desit, Septimi desertoris sui gladio trucidatus sub oculis uxoris suae liberorumque moreretur”;

In D.1 Livius appears to be Jerome’s primary source. However, the phrase “septimo patrui anno”, absent from Livius, may reflect Jerome’s interpretation of Florus’ imprecise expression “septima subole”, which he may have rendered as “septimo anno” (Puccioni 1956b). Indeed, in Livius (1.3) Amulius is presented as the fourteenth descendant, not the seventh.

In other passages, Jerome appears to have combined elements from both Livius and Florus. The second case (D.2), in particular, seems to reflect a synthesis of Florus 1.1.12 and Livius 1.11. Notably, Jerome’s phrase “clipeis… obruta” may echo Florus’ wording “clipeis obruere”, while also recalling Livius’s wording “obrutam armis necavere”.36

In his account of Romulus’ establishment of the Senate, Florus uses the phrase “qui ex auctoritate ob aetatem senatus vocabatur”, which appears to be echoed in Jerome’s version “ob aetatem senatores, ob similitudinem curae patres appellavit” (D.3). It is more plausible, as has been suggested, that Jerome had multiple texts before him and freely excerpted from them—perhaps in order to obscure the very multiplicity of his sources (Puccioni 1956a, p. 211).

The last case (D.4) concerns the episode of Pompey’s death on 28 September 48 BC. It has been suggested that Jerome’s formulation “a spadonibus … occiditur” derives from Florus’ phrase “consiliis spadonum … moreretur”.37 Although the verbal correspondence is not exact, a comparison with other sources recounting the same event—each differing in certain details—suggests that Jerome was familiar with Florus’ version and chose to summarize it. In this instance, therefore, Jerome appears to have followed Florus’ account of Pompey’s death, rather than relying on Livius, as he does elsewhere.

Conclusion: with the possible exception of D.4, the remaining examples do not demonstrate definitive or verifiable dependence on Florus, although such a connection cannot be entirely ruled out. What remains to be understood is why Jerome would have drawn upon Florus only in a few isolated instances—perhaps employing him as an alternative to Livius for minor details or stylistic variation.

5. The Dialogue Vergilius orator an poeta

The treatise Vergilius orator an poeta, traditionally attributed to Florus, remains a subject of debate regarding its authorship and is “a groundbreaking experiment in literary autobiography”.38 Compared to the Epitome, the influence of Vergilius orator an poeta is even stronger, and this becomes particularly significant when considering the brevity of the surviving text.

The following two cases have been highlighted:

E. Florus, Vergilius orator an poeta 1.2: “nam nescio quid oculi mei admonent et quasi per nubilum recognosco”; “Indeed, my eyes bring to mind something I cannot quite identify, yet which I recognize as if through a fog”;

E.1. Jerome, in Dan. 1.2 ad v. 30a: “Et hoc considerandum quod somnia, in quibus aliqua ventura signantur et quasi per nubilum veritas demonstratur, non pateant coniectoribus et humanae mentis arbitrio, sed Dei solius scientiae”; “And this must be considered: dreams, in which future events are signified and the truth is revealed as though through a fog, are not accessible to interpreters and human judgment, but only to the knowledge of the one God”.

The Latin phrase “et quasi per nubilum” is taken literally by Jerome in a passage from his commentary on Daniel (E.1), likely written in 407 (Glorie 1964b, p. 751 and especially Courtray 2019, pp. 11–16), in which “a genuine intertextual connection can perhaps be recognized” (Rocchi 2020, p. 62). Notably, despite later variations, the adverb “quasi”, a distinctive feature of Florus’ style (appearing 123 times in the Epitome, including in the passage about the brevis tabella),39 is closely preserved by Jerome, even in its word order. While the contexts differ between the two texts—“quasi per nubilum” in the commentary on Daniel refers to the truth revealed in dreams, whereas in Vergilius orator an poeta it pertains to recognizing a person—it is plausible to speculate that Jerome drew on this image, if not primarily, at least for its effective placement, as it appears in the opening lines of the treatise;

F. Florus, Vergilius orator an poeta 1.5: “avidissime nascentem amicitiam foederabamus”; “We were eagerly sealing the nascent friendship”;

F.1. Jerome, Ep. 4.1.2: “Gratulor itaque tibi, et nascentem amicitiam, ut Dominus confoederare dignetur, precor”; “I give you my compliments and pray that the Lord may deign to strengthen our nascent friendship”;

F.2. Ep. 5.1: “Impedio exposcens, ne nascentes amicitias, quae Christi glutino cohaeserunt, aut temporis, aut locorum magnitudo divellat; quin potius foederemus eas reciprocis epistolis”; “Though absent in person, I come to you earnestly beseeching that no span of time or space may tear asunder our nascent friendship, which is firmly cemented in Christ. Let us rather seal it through our mutual correspondence”.

The verb “foederare” is first attested in Florus and other African authors, such as Minucius Felix and Tertullian,40 but it should not be considered a neologism exclusive to Florus. However, the combination of “foederare” with “amicitia”, which also first appears in Florus, constitutes an expressive peculiarity that caught the attention of Jerome and other late antique authors.41 Moreover, Jerome’s Ep. 4.1.2 presents what may be “the longest intertextual connection—or, more cautiously, textual coincidence—with the dialogue […] found in the corpus of Latin texts that followed it” (Rocchi 2020, p. 70), suggesting a possible familiarity with Florus’ treatise. Equally notable is its occurrence in Ep. 5, where, despite a different and more distanced textual placement, the Floran word order remains essentially unchanged, even retaining the verb in its base form.

Although possibly coincidental, it is noteworthy that Jerome’s reference in both letters appears at the beginning, mirroring the placement of the expression in the Floran text, specifically at the opening of the treatise. Even the “nubilum” from the previous case appears at the outset, suggesting that Jerome may have given particular attention to the opening of the treatise.

Finally, it is worth noting that these two letters, dated to 373–374 and written a few years before Jerome’s time in the desert of Chalcis, are the only instances of his knowledge of Florus (albeit from different works) before Vita Pauli (A.4), which was written somewhat later.

6. Florus and Jerome

The presence of Florus in these pages appears somewhat diminished compared to the numerous and generous references found in the editions and translations of Jerome’s texts, but this does not lessen its significance. In the few most likely instances, it seems that various factors influenced Jerome’s choice to draw from Florus, as well as from other authors. These reasons range from reminiscence to the adaptation of an image in a similar context, from the need to establish an appropriate tone to a particular stylistic refinement, and even to the preference for simple lexical borrowings beyond the immediate context.

It is likely that Jerome encountered Florus during his formative years, as one might expect with the Epitome, which would have had younger readers as its first audience. It is also plausible that he revisited Florus in later years, perhaps tracing the (epitomized) history as his personal experiences and needs led him from one place to another or while attempting to integrate episodes of Roman history into the Chronicon. When Jerome intends to be seen and heard quoting or citing a classical author, he does so in a manner that leaves no room for ambiguity regarding his intent; almost all Floran instances, however, clearly do not fall into that category of overt allusion—Jerome did not expect his readers to recognize these as Floran. Furthermore, this analysis has identified additional literary influences that should be considered more convincingly; such is the inherent risk that any textual exploration unveils.